On Life
by Larxenethefirefly
Summary: A series of one-shots following the lives of Rose and the Doctor, and how they really aren't that much different after all. Because, when all is said and done, they really just need each other for everything to end up alright.
1. On Birthdays

These series of (unrelated) one shots were meant to be pure friendship, showing the development of the Doctor and Rose's relationship and their connection on a deeper level then just attraction and flirting. As usual, the story ran away and the Doctor had other ideas. Thus, I ended up with this, with Jack butting in at the last second, demanding that I give him some attention since I've been too busy mooning over the Doctor and Rose. Personally, I think he's just jealous.

Oh, and a warning for some innuendos. Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. I had a letter come in the other day with a coupon that allowed me to own it for a day, but it's not valid until the year 2389, and expires on May 7, 2015. I don't know how that's possible, but it's all very timey-wimey anyway.

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><p><span>On Birthdays<span>

The Doctor knew something was up when Rose walked in wearing that particular outfit. Made of a shiny, silky material with a floral pattern and spaghetti straps, it accentuated her curves and left little to the imagination. Combined with a barely-there skirt and heels, it did a funny thing to his chest and blood pressure. Clearing his throat and trying not to think of the images currently assaulting his mind, he managed to say in an even tone, "What's with the get up?

Rose smiled beautifully, playing shyly with her TARDIS key necklace. It rested over her chest, and the Doctor tried not to think of that, either. "Well, I've been counting the days since I came on board, and been keeping track of time best I can. Well, this morning I discovered that it's my birthday." Her smile widened. "I'm twenty."

Blinking, he stared for a moment. "Blimey. I've forgotten that those exist."

Rose looked surprised. "How can you forget your own birthday?"

"I'm nine hundred years old, Rose. After a while, you tend to get bored of such things."

Rose crossed the room, sitting down on the jump seat. "I guess. But when is your birthday, anyway?"

Now it was his turn to be puzzled. "Beg pardon?"

"When were you born? Or do they not have a calendar system on Gallifrey?"

The Doctor laughed at that. "Time Lord, Rose. Of course we have a calendar. Mind, it's more complex than yours and is impossible to translate to earth time, but we do have one."

"So when is it?"

He hesitated, and then shrugged. "I don't know."

"What?" Rose looked adorably shocked, lurching to her feet and planting her hands on her hips. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Just what I said. I don't know. I forgot a long time ago."

Rose considered him for a second, her eyes trailing up and down his form. Hiding the pleasant shivers that accompanied her actions, he fiddled with the controls, trying not to return the favor (he failed).

"Well then, we'll just have to give you a new one. Not today though, cause today is mine, and it'll give us something to look forward to later." Sitting back down in the jump seat, she smiled at the ceiling. "What do you think, girl? Should we give the Doctor a birthday?"

At the TARDIS's answering chime, he groaned. "Rose, I really don't need..."

"Nonsense," she interrupted. "You need some time off. We can't save the world all the time, yeah? Even super heroes need to relax." She gave him The Smile, her tongue poking out between her teeth. "But if you insist, we'll talk about it later. You don't turn twenty every day, you know."

He smiled the large goofy smile he knew she loved. "Well then, where shall we take the birthday girl? Malu Twelve? They have the best beach resorts in the Falrutik System. Then there's The Seven Planets of Peth, where every day is a party."

"Did I hear the word 'party'?"

Jack strolled into the console room, grinning wolfishly. Rose rolled her eyes, but gave him a fond smile. "It's my birthday, and the Doctor is suggesting a few places we should go to celebrate."

"Seriously?" Jack's eyes gleamed. "Man, Doc, never knew you had it in ya!"

Frowning, the Doctor replied haughtily, "There are many things you don't know about me, Jack." Seeing the Time Agent's suggestive leer, he added, "And many things you will never find out."

"Aw, but I'll buy you a drink and everything!"

Giggling, Rose interrupted. "Jack, stop flirting. It's my birthday; my privilege!"

The Doctor's ears went pink as his mind instantly dove into the gutter. Jack sighed, sitting down beside her with a defeated air. "Alright, fine. But two months from now it's all me."

Not wanting that mental image, the Doctor spoke up before they could gang up on him. "So, The Seven Planets of Peth? I'm sure Rose will have an excellent time, and Jack can shag the locals to his heart's content.

Letting out a laugh at Jack's enthusiastic whoop, Rose grabbed the console. "Sounds good to me!

"Seven Planets of Peth it is! Hold on tight, here we go!"

The TARDIS rocked as they landed, throwing Rose into the Doctor as they staggered to keep their balance. The feeling of her laughing against his chest caused his stomach to flip over, and he looked down at her with a hopelessly smitten look. Ignoring Jack's wolf-whistle, he helped her to her feet, still holding her against him.

Rose pulled out of his arms, dashing to the door, hair bouncing. "Coming, Doctor?" she called, beaming, the sunlight streaming in from the door giving her a golden aura. Laughing, he walked over to her, offering her his arm.

"Ready when you are," he said, and together they stepped out into the street and into the gathered masses.

The colors, music, smells, and jovial attitude surrounded them, and Rose threw herself into the celebrations without reservation as Jack ran off to find his own entertainment. She danced, she sang, she drank more than she should and never, not once, left him alone. Even when some young, pretty thing with a wolfish smile and large eyes claimed her for a dance, her eyes would always seek out the Doctor's and let him know that she was still there.

He left once, to visit a booth selling various pieces of jewelry. Rose was chatting with a young girl with iridescent dragonfly wings, exchanging fashion trends and hairstyles while the girl's date tried to look interested. He didn't even bother hiding his envious look when the Doctor excused himself.

Once at the booth, however, the Doctor realized that he didn't know the first thing that came with buying a present. Sure, his past companions had birthdays, but they were always postponed or forgotten during the general rush of adventure and running for their lives. He was pretty certain that a few of the females had hinted about gifts in the past (especially his fifth form; that regeneration was particularly absentminded, however, and tended to forget it had been brought up after a few moments), but none had been like Rose, and Rose was worth it.

Worth everything, really.

He cautiously eyed the jewelry, the shopkeeper currently arguing happily away with another customer. Some fast, rhythmic song struck up, and the customer's partner grabbed her hand and tugged her off, both laughing wildly. The shopkeeper turned to him with a smile. "Can I help you?"

The Doctor was about to say no, he was just browsing, that he would leave soon, when a necklace caught his eye. TARDIS blue with streaks of gold, the charm was looped into a complicated spiral. To most others it would seem like a random design, but the Doctor instantly recognized it: It was the symbol of eternity for the Arcadians, a race that died in the war but whose influence reached over hundreds of galaxies and thousands of years. Swallowing, he picked up the necklace, the charm rotating slightly. "How much?" he asked.

The shopkeeper grinned knowingly at him. "For you, I'll give you a discount. Thirty shells."

The Doctor handed over the money, and the shopkeeper sent him off with a smile and some parting words of wisdom: "It's not often that I see a man who is so in love as you. Whoever the girl is, she must be lucky indeed."

Instead of protesting, the Doctor smiled widely. "Yeah, I suppose she is. I'm luckier for finding her, though."

The shopkeeper chuckled as the Doctor returned to Rose, who was exchanging contact information with her new friend. As a new song started, the Doctor grabbed Rose's hand. "C'mon, let's go! There's so much more to see!"

"Doctor!" she laughed. "What's gotten you so happy?"

He smiled down at her. "It's your birthday. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

Her return smile was absolutely radiant. "Then dance with me," she said, and before he could protest, she drew him into the crowd of writhing bodies.

Rose pressed herself against him, and his hands immediately found her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. Surrounded by the mass of dancers, there was very little room to do more than sway, but sway she did, and her movements against him caused nearly all rational thought to flee his mind. Warmth pooled through his body, and within moments the atmosphere had invaded his senses and he was matching her movements. It seemed a crime to let more than a few millimeters between them, and as he pulled her tighter, Rose's soft moan let him know that maybe, she wanted this, too.

With her soft body pressed against his and her tight, silky shirt feeling heavenly under his hands, the Doctor nearly forgot how to breathe when her hips ground against his, giving a new definition to earth shattering and causing his brain to fuzz over. Breathing heavily, his forehead dropped to hers, and he felt her arms tighten around his neck.

Eventually, when the feeling of her became too much and he was so agonizingly close to taking her right then and there, he bent over and spoke close to her ear, suggesting they go out to dinner. Hiding the smug smile as he felt her shiver and nod wordlessly into his neck, he grabbed her hand and led her away, bringing her to a nearby cafe tucked into a back alley.

It was a more subdued setting, though the festivities filtered in and set a nice background hum over the sound of conversation, clinking plates and silverware. Ordering them the house special, he looked at Rose with a smile. "Enjoying yourself so far?"

"Am I ever!" She exclaimed. "This is the best party I've ever had."

He chuckled. "And just think, there are six more planets to explore."

They talked about everything and anything over dinner; Rose's past birthdays, parties she had been to, her favorite memories growing up. They even spent a little time trying to pick a date for him to celebrate his own birthday, but nothing felt right. She eventually gave up, but he knew the discussion was far from over.

When their meal was eaten and paid for, they wandered around the streets, hand in hand, experiencing everything that was available but never taking part. As the night wore on and the air grew colder, the Doctor draped his jacket over her shoulders and tried to ignore the fluttering of his hearts as she beamed up at him and settled into the fabric with a soft sigh.

Hours or perhaps minutes later, they came across a quiet corner where several couples were slow dancing, rocking slowly in place and oblivious to the world around them. Rose eyed them with a wistful little smile, and before he realized what he was doing, the Doctor had led her over to the group and gathered her in her arms, her head on his shoulder and his chin on her hair. Content, they swayed to the soft rhythm around them, letting the moment lead them where it would.

"Happy birthday, Rose," he finally said as the song ended, pulling back to look into her eyes.

Dreamily, she smiled up at him. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice causing his hearts to flutter again.

One of his hands trailed down her back before reaching into his jacket pocket. Rose gave him a curious look, but he merely shrugged. "A birthday girl needs a present," he explained, before showing her the small box the necklace was packed in. Rose, her eyes wide, accepted the present, her hands shaking slightly as she held it.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed, holding up the charm to let it spin softly. The light seemed to gather around it, causing it to sparkle and glow with an internal fire.

He gently took the hand holding the necklace in his. "May I?" he asked, and she nodded, mutely, turning around and brushing her hair over her shoulder. If his hands lingered longer than was necessary on her neck after clasping it shut, neither of them protested.

Rose turned back around, and he smiled at the sight of her. The necklace was shorter than the chain she had the TARDIS key on, which was currently hidden under her top; the charm rested just above the shirts neckline, rising and falling with her breath, glowing softly.

"It suits you," he said, finally.

Rose nodded, her face slightly pink. "There's...there's one more custom about birthdays that you're forgetting," she finally said, fidgeting nervously.

The Doctor frowned. "There is?" internally, he began to panic. He had gotten her a gift, had thrown her a party (relatively speaking), and had even grudgingly sang that stupid song over dinner when Rose had ordered a dessert. What had he missed...?

"A kiss," Rose mumbled, blushing. "The birthday girl gets a kiss."

Ah.

Suddenly, the air got really, really hot.

Speechless, the Doctor tried to find the words to respond, mouth falling open and refusing to form words. Rose, taking his reaction the wrong way, hurriedly spoke again. "Um, look, forget I said anything. It's...it's a stupid tradition, really, no one ever follows it anymore..." she turned, tears forming, intent on finding the TARDIS and hiding in shame.

She was pulled to a stop when the Doctor grabbed her arm. With a gasp, she turned to him, freezing at the look in eyes.

"Nothing," he said seriously, in a voice that sounded like desire and reverberated through her entire soul, "Is a stupid tradition with you, Rose."

His voice made her knees go weak, and if his hands hadn't been supporting her, she would have fallen to the ground then and there, a puddle of want. Instead, she watched for a breathless moment as his face drew nearer to hers, and her eyes closed on their own accord.

His lips were the barest pressure on hers, but before she knew what was happening, her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him fiercely, passionately, and he was kissing her right back. His arms were steel bars, pinning her to him, and Rose would have been quite happy to be stuck like that for eternity.

When the need for oxygen finally overcame her need for him, she pulled away with a shuddering gasp and buried her face in his neck, trembling. If his ragged breathing was anything to go by, he was just as affected as her, or probably more even more so (there was no way that was his sonic screwdriver). Clinging to him, Rose asked breathlessly, "I think that was the best present I ever received."

His laugh was low and delicious. "There's more where that came from," he murmured into her ear, and the shiver that raced up her spine tingled with expectation.

She gave him a coy smile instead. "Still set against birthdays then, Doctor?" she asked slyly, one hand trailing down his chest. His eyes darkened, and the shiver ran through her again.

"You know, Rose Tyler," he said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the TARDIS, "I think I may have just remembered the date after all."

"Oh?"

He gave her a suggestive smile that made her weak at the knees. "One thing at a time, Rose. After all, it's still your birthday, and there's one more present I have to give you."

The look in his eyes was all then information she needed. Grinning, she dashed past him. "Last one back is on bottom!"

She wasn't certain, but she thought he let her win on purpose. But, seeing as how this was the best birthday present she could have dreamed of, Rose couldn't find it in herself to complain.

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><p>Jack was eventually found four planets and several celebrations later, roaring drunk and in the middle of a game of strip poker. Whining the entire way to the TARDIS as they led him off, Jack leaned heavily on the Doctor as he half-dragged, half-carried his companion away. Head lolling, he gave the Doctor a glassy-eyed look and said, "Doctor, don't tell Rose, but I think there's a hickey on your neck."<p>

If Jack had been sober enough to care, he would have been highly amused at the Doctor's bright red face and Rose's delighted smirk at her lover's obvious embarrassment.

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><p>Erm, yeah. Tell me what you think. This is an experiment, so chapters are based off of the amount of reviews that are given. -hopeful look-<p> 


	2. On Jail Cells

Oh look, I updated!

The wait was not from a lack of ideas, I assure you; it was a lack of time, and the way my plot bunnies decided to die out just when I was getting started. I have about three written in various stages of completion on my iPad and another two on my computer, and about five others floating around my head. This just so happens to be one I actually managed to complete just before going to work. Since I spent little time editing, I apologize for any mistakes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Well, I was about to yesterday, and I was going to sign the papers of ownership and everything... but then I woke up.

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><p><span>On Jail Cells<span>

He had promised her the planet Meridian in the year 290,483.

She got the planet Meridian, but the year 194,883.

He swore that the New Year celebration was the grandest show in the universe, and the Empress herself would be attending the celebration.

They met the Empress, but it wasn't on New Years, and there wasn't a celebration.

He vowed that the food that was provided was the best she would ever taste.

There was no food.

Instead, they had arrived in the middle of the Empress Tairanayet's Reign of Terror, unknowingly walking right into a war party, was arrested as spies, and thrown into the dungeons.

"Well, I got the last two numbers right," He had said as they were hauled off to the jail cell.

Rose, wearing a short red dress and black leggings, lamented the death of yet another outfit and wondered how well the jail cell was outfitted this go-round.

Though it was typical, really, Rose thought later as she leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the suspicious squeaking that sounded like rats. His piloting was awful, and they only landed where they wanted to be on the rare occasion. If earlier experiences hadn't confirmed it (alien tongues being translated in her head, the chiming whenever she asked a question, the way the console or wires would spark whenever the Doctor was doing something wrong in repairs or in flight), she would have realized from that alone that the TARDIS was a sentient being. She landed where she wanted to land, and that was that, the Doctor ignored. Provided no end of frustration for him, of course, but Rose liked to watch him arguing with his ship. Even if the conversation was one-sided to her, she filled in the blanks in her own mind, picturing a rather classy, if snarky and mischievous, woman in blue replying to him. This had made her giggle on numerous occasions, and the Doctor had sent her weird glances before abruptly stopping, realizing how ridiculous he sounded talking to thin air. She suspected the conversations were telepathic after that, but she didn't have a way of knowing.

The Doctor was currently pacing moodily along the opposing wall, jacket-less, as leather was apparently illegal as the Empress was allergic to it. She hoped they hadn't destroyed it, since she rather liked that jacket, and had a lot of fantasies involving it. Then again, the sight of the Doctor in his jumper with his sleeves rolled up wasn't that bad of a picture, either. She grinned, openly admiring the view, glad of the dark shadows that hid her.

He was apparently trying to sort out timelines, because his muttering revolved around a debate on a coup, protest, or a revolution. Something was going to happen on this day (or on this day next year or last year), nonetheless, but what (or would, or had) happened still wasn't clear to him.

"You know," she said, lightly, as his glare became more pronounced, "This cell isn't all that bad."

He stopped pacing, looking at her with his heavy frown still intact. "What?"

She propped one leg up, laying her arm across her knee. "Well, it is private, has a bed, a loo, and a window. We have room service"- she gestured at the tray that had been shoved through the door an hour ago, containing stale bread and a watery soup- "twenty-four-seven surveillance, and entertainment." She threw a loose pebble at a curious rat and watched it run off. "So all in all, not bad, although the décor could be better; a blanket, a rug, and maybe some curtains, and we're all set."

His look had changed from anger to incredulity to amusement. "I suppose so, yeah," He agreed. Crossing over to join her in the shadows, he sat down next to her- very, very closely- and said, "It is private"- his hand reached out to grab hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand slowly-"We do have entertainment"-his face was close now, and she could feel his breath ghosting along her neck, and she shivered-"and we do have a bed." His tone was wicked, dark and sensual, and her hand tightened involuntarily in his. "The loo is a perk, I could care less about the window, the room service is downright lousy, and as for the surveillance . . ." He gave a chuckle, "If they don't wanna watch, they don't have to."

"That depends on what they're watching," she replied, a smirk tugging on her lips. "I don't see anything particularly entertaining."

"Think so, Rose Tyler?" He asked, shifting closer, his arms wrapping about her. His mouth was hovering over her jaw.

She didn't trust herself to speak, merely nodded. Feeling his smile, she fisted her hands into his jumper, turning her head to look at him. The fire in his eyes made her swallow, but she held his gaze, determined not to give in and show him just how much he was affecting her.

They stayed like that, hovering on the edge of something new and wonderful and exhilarating as much as it was terrifying. His eyes, blue and bright and sprinkled with stars, were the only things she could see in the shadows of the cell, the tiny window set far above either of their heads barely letting in the light from the giant moon. Outside, one of the guards shifted, his spear-like weapon clacking faintly against the floor. Somewhere a rat squeaked, but all these sounds were muted against the thundering of her heart and the whisper of her breath as it mingled with his, their faces oh so close but nearly close enough. Her senses are on overdrive, registering his every movement, touch, and sound; she noticed his eyes dart quickly down then up again, the pretty red dress she had donned earlier doing little to ward off the chill, and her black leggings the worse for wear. She felt his hands twitch, as if itching to travel upwards, or downwards, along her body, to pull her closer; the faint sound he made as she licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She wanted, oh she wanted, but now she had a faint idea that he wanted, too. Leaning closer, Rose's eyes were tied to his, trying to show him that it was ok to let go, just this once.

He swallowed, and his eyes darted down and then up again. Grinning, Rose stuck her tongue out ever so slightly, and watched his eyes darken.

Then he was kissing her, at long last, and she sighed in appreciation. His arms tightened, and she willingly let herself get pulled closer, molding against his body. One of her hands gripped his head, the other his waist, and one shift was all it took to straddle him.

The guard outside their door moved again, but Rose couldn't care less. She had the Doctor against a wall, snogging him breathless, their arms wrapped around each other and glued to the spot. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and her blood was singing in her veins she felt so alive. She had never felt like this before, and if this was only their first kiss… she shivered slightly, the possibilities flowing through her mind making her dizzy.

"Rose," he whispered, nuzzling her neck. "I…"

They jumped when the door banged open, and Rose flinched when she saw the Empress standing in the doorway. The Doctor, blinking, narrowed his eyes at Her Highness. "Do you mind?" He demanded. "I was in the middle of something important, here."

Rose squeaked and buried her face in his neck, trying to ignore what he just said and how it had made her insides dance a little. His arms tightened a bit possessively, seeing the way one of the guards were eyeing her, and sent him a glare that could curdle milk. The guard flinched, and then snapped to attention as the Empress spoke up, coolly. "You will tell us how you managed to get in here," she said, eyes glittering with the mad fire that fueled her insanity.

"You threw us in here," he replied sarcastically.

Her eyes narrowed, and Rose was faintly amused at the way her over-large ears flattened against her head like a cat's. "You will teach us how you managed to walk into my war room without alerting any of my guards, tripping any of my traps, and avoiding all the security cameras." The Empress's voice was calm, but the layer of ice in her words was poorly hidden. This lady didn't take no for an answer, apparently.

Rose felt the Doctor relax, and she knew that a plan was already forming in his mind. "Give me my jacket back," he replied, "and let us out of here, and I'll show you whatever you want."

The Empress regarded them for a moment. "Take the girl," she snapped, and the guards raced forward. Rose, not wanting to leave the rather comfortable position she was in, struggled as they hauled her up. The Doctor went with her, hell bent on defending her, slugging one guard in the jaw and grabbing Rose as she stumbled. The other grabbed his weapon, the point whipping up to rest against her throat faster than Rose could blink.

"It would be best if you cooperate, sir," the Empress said, smugly. "Or your pretty little girlfriend will be hurt."

Despite the severity of the situation, Rose couldn't help but notice that he didn't argue the word describing her. She certainly wasn't complaining, and if the way his eyes darted toward hers was any indication, she figured that he liked it as well.

If only they really were dating, she thought sadly.

Reluctantly, the Doctor let Rose be taken from him. "Give me my jacket," he growled.

Rose hoped it hadn't been searched. Besides the sonic and his TARDIS key, there were many items in those bottomless pockets that could potentially be used for harm under the control of someone like the Empress. Seeing the Doctor's calm look, however, she forced herself to relax. Taking deep breaths to calm herself she waited for the right moment to catch her captor off guard.

The Empress snapped her fingers, and the other guard ran off. The Doctor was apparently holding a staring contest with the man holding the spear against Rose's throat (she hoped the other man knew, because if looks could kill he would have dropped dead by now), and his gaze did not waver the entire time. Rose slowly lifted her hand to grasp his, and she felt his fingers curl around hers defensively. That gave her more strength, and she raised her head to glare at the Empress. She was only slightly pleased when the other woman looked away first.

When the guard finally returned, the Doctor immediately grabbed the sonic from his jacket. "The thing is," he said, grinning, stepping closer to Rose, "Teleportation requires a lot of technology, people, equipment, and time. I rather prefer not to go that route."

"Then how did you get in?" The Empress demanded.

"The same way we're getting out," he replied, flippantly.

"How?"

"Well, I may have lied." He amended. "There is one step I forgot to mention. And one rule I should have you know: If you give a man a sonic screwdriver in a room made out of stone, never let them do this."

He used a setting on the sonic that emitted a high-pitched whine, and the sound began echoing off the walls, floor and ceiling. The Empress as well as her guards hit the ground, clutching at their over-sized ears and shrieking in pain. The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand and they ran for it, dodging other guards and palace staff who looked at them in complete bewilderment before realizing what had happened and giving chase.

A stray spear bounced off the wall near Rose's head, and she ducked and moved closer to the Doctor. His hand tightened on hers, and he flashed her a grin over his shoulder. Seconds later the TARDIS appeared, and the Doctor opened the doors and shoved her through.

Not being able to resist one last 'up-yours', he grinned at the livid guards and the figure of the Empress racing up to them. "As I said, I'll be leaving the way I came. Unfortunately, I will not be telling you how it works. Now, I'm going to finish what you so rudely interrupted. Have a nice reign, Your Majesty; it'll end in about ten years or so." He ducked inside as a spear was launched, and it buried itself into the door with a muffled 'thunk'. The TARDIS hummed in disapproval, chastising him, but he had already started flicking switches, pulling levers, and pressing random buttons in take off.

Once they were safely in the vortex, he walked over to Rose. There was an intense expression in his eyes, one that made her curl her toes and shiver in delight. "I believe there was something I was trying to say, earlier."

"Yeah?" She said, breathlessly, wanting to snog him senseless and perhaps, if she was lucky, continue onto other activities.

He stepped closer, eyes boring into hers, and his head dropped her to ear. In the barest whisper, he said, "Rose, I wonder if they serve bananas for breakfast?"

She blinked.

Laughing at her expression, he went back to the console, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, it was _on_.

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><p>And on that rather open-ended ending, I ask for you to please review! They keep me happy and my plot bunnies fed, and well-fed plot bunnies means they won't die out anymore :) And bite me. Hungry bunnies are not to be messed with.<p> 


	3. On Heartbeats

So, a little shorter than normal, just something to keep you from wondering where I went in case I don't update soon. See, college is starting next week (eeep!), and I've been busy getting everything settled. Anyway, read as little or as much into this as you like; fluff is definitley present, but it's light fluff. So no cavities

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><p>On Heartbeats<p>

The room is quiet, and Rose listened to the sound of the Doctor's heartbeats as they laid together in her bed. They were beating soothingly in her ear, assuring her that he was still there with her. He had died before her eyes, and it had been her fault; the pain of losing him had been too awful to bear, and she nearly gave up then and there. Because of her stupid selfishness and stubbornness, he had died trying to give her a life with her father.

And she hadn't even realized that he was far, far more important than her long dead dad until it was too late.

She didn't regret meeting her father; even that short amount of time she spent with him had opened her eyes to the man he truly was, the good and the bad, and that made him even more of a man and less of an ideal in her eyes. Her parent's marriage hadn't been perfect, and that made her hope. Hope that her relationship with the Doctor would turn out alright even if he kept her at arm's length. Hope that their dysfunctional lifestyle hid a deeper bond, a bond that would connect them through eons. Even as her parents argued and fought and claimed to despise each other, she knew that they loved each other. Knew in the way her father would stare after her mother as she stormed off, longing and desperation in his eyes, the way her mother would still return and act as if nothing had happened and cling to her father as if it would be the last chance to see him. The look in their eyes, the unconscious contact of hands brushing arms or shoulders, the way they knew where the other was in the room even without actively seeking the other out. She wanted a romance like that, maybe without all the misunderstandings and infidelity, but one like her parents nonetheless.

She wanted to share it with the Doctor.

She didn't need a house, a mortgage, a wedding, children, all the things that society expected of a normal couple; instead she needed that connection, the sense of belonging with the other, completing each other in every sense of the word and knowing that someone would always be there for her even in her darkest hours. She had once envisioned that with Mickey, but after Downing Street ("I could save the world but lose you...!") she knew she only wanted to fit into society's definition of normality. With the Doctor, she finally believed, for the first time in her life, that she belonged. Maybe he didn't want her like that. Maybe he only saw her as someone to show off to. But to her, he was so much more, a dream becoming reality, a new way of living, the chance to truly become who she was meant to be. Most importantly, he was the only man in the universe who had stolen her heart one hundred percent, and the only one she wanted to spend forever with.

And she had almost lost him before she could tell him how much he truly meant to her.

Glancing up at his face, she smiled softly as she realized that, for the first time in a long time, the Doctor was sleeping. The normal crease between his eyebrows was gone, smoothed over in dreams. His mouth was turned up in a small smile, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Even his giant, wonderful grins and joyous laughter didn't compare to this. He looked relaxed, calm, the usual horrors that haunted him gone temporarily, allowing him peace. Hesitantly she reached up and brushed gentle fingertips along his face, ghosting over his skin and tracing his jawline. He moved slightly, as if seeking her touch, even in sleep trying to reassure himself that she was there. Swallowing, she whispered, quietly, "I wish I could see you like this more often."

He didn't respond, merely sighed and rolled over to face her fully. Wriggling forward so that their noses were centimeters apart, she took in every feature. Her eyes roved over his face, committing every little detail to memory, wanting to remember this moment. Her desperation, fueled by the fear of nearly losing him because of her stupid selfishness, only made this moment far more precious; so long as he was here, by her, safe and alive and his arms around her, she didn't care if this never happened again. If, in a moment of fear and loneliness and guilt and sorrow, she desperately clutched at him, asking him to stay with her just so she knew he was there, and he said no instead of "I'll always be here." She still had this memory, this moment, and that was enough.

The Doctor's heartbeats, strong and confident under her cheek, sounded like the most beautiful music. The steady, four-beat rhythm, alien and familiar, lulled her into a light doze as she continued to stare at him, her fingers hovering over his face before gently tracing his lips, soft as a butterfly's wing and gone before it was noticed. Sleepily, softly, she smiled, her hand falling back to his chest and joining him in the realm of dreams.

In the quiet, their hearts kept beat to each other, forever dancing to the same rhythm, forever linked to the other.


	4. On Reunions

Oh, hello. We meet again :)

I've finally found some downtime to write! Yaaaay~ But don't get too comfortable. College has only just started, and it's gonna get crazy soon...

And yes, I did the mandatory 'Why Nine Went Back' story. Seeing as how I did a post-GiTF, I figured I'd go ahead and do one of these as well. I suppose this means AU BabyFic is next. Hmmm...

Written on my iPad, so it's a little shorter than what I'm used to writing since notepad doesn't have word count P:

Disclaimer: If owning seasons 1-6.5 of Doctor Who on itunes is considered enough proof of ownership, then gosh darn it I do :) But, seeing as how hundreds of others probably have the same proof... well, that's a lot of people who do own it, and I don't really like to share. So, that equates to no, I don't own Doctor Who, and I probably never will...

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><p><span>On Reunions<span>

The Doctor brooded, sheltered in the corner by a rather large potted fern. The MotherQueen was naturally very thankful for him saving her people from the invading D'Trag, but her thanks had gotten a little... Personal. He didn't mind a good flirt now and then, but when she started insinuating marriage he bolted. He was stuck at the ball, however, as he was the guest of honor. And whenever he tried to sneak off to the garden, one of the MotherQueen's attendants latched on to him and dragged him off to the dance floor.

Or at least, tried to. He absolutely, vehemently, did not dance.

Seeing no attendants in sight, he took his chances and bolted for the doors leading to the garden, shoving the various nobility and ambassadors out of the way. They squawked in protest (the MotherQueen was the leader of the D'Grat, a race that was something of a pigeon/human hybrid; beautiful wings, but the claws made handshakes messy) but otherwise let him escape. Hopefully, he could stay out here for the remainder of the party, and sneak away once everyone had either gone home or taken advantage of the castle's multitude of rooms.

There was a small path leading somewhere, and on a whim he took it. Ending up in a sheltered circle next to a miniature pond, he settled down on the bluish silver grass and sighed.

It and been a month since London and the Autons. Not once had he forgiven himself for not trying harder to keep her.

Rose had been fantastic. She was scared, yes, but so very, very brave, and just seemed to understand without effort. Maybe she hadn't understood everything, but she understood what was important and what it meant, and when looking into her eyes, he felt that with her, he could forget the past.

But she had made her choice and he had made his, and there was nothing he could do.

A faint smell reached him, and he looked up from the water's edge, confused. It was a metallic tang, not quite a displacement beam or teleport, but something had definitely changed locations. Standing, he brushed himself off, and heard a gasp behind him.

That was all he needed to know that whoever had come upon him was female. Expecting one of the QueenMother's attendants, his expression of long-suffering annoyance quickly turned to shock when he beheld the girl in front of him.

She was wearing a blue leather jacket over a pink top, jeans, and boots. Her eyes, brown and misty with tears, were glued on his; she seemed to be trembling. "Doctor?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

His own eyes widened. "Rose?"

Then she was hurtling towards him, sobbing, clutching his jacket and crying into his jumper. Bewildered, he stared down at her head. "But I left you on Earth! How...?"

The girl- no, woman, really- gave a teary laugh. "Of course. Of course. I shouldn't... But it's you, really you, and I've missed you so much..."

Well, that was a comfort. At least she remembered him, though that didn't explain why she was here. She didn't seem fit to answer his questions, though, so he simply let her cry into his jumper before she finally pulled away from him, scrubbing at her eyes. "Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just been a long time since I've seen you'd like this, and..." her voice faded, and she swallowed, giving him a weak smile. "You're just like how I remember you."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I...I can't say. I just...god, Doctor, you always leave me behind, ya know? And I try to come back, and I do, then something happens and we're alone again..." she sighed, and stepped away, shaking her head with a stubborn expression. "But not this time. I'm finding you, and you're never gonna leave me again."

He had known she was from the future as she spoke, not only because she was older then the Rose he had left, but also from her words. Somehow, then, she had seen him regenerate, and somehow, they had been separated. Didn't explain how she was here, of course, but he was glad she was.

She continued, her sorrow seeming to evaporate. "If I found this you, it means I'm getting close. But first..." her smile grew wider, and she grabbed his hand. "I hear a party, and I'm asking you to dance."

"I don't...!"

She snorted. "Nonsense. I have it on good authority that you do, in fact, dance, Doctor." her smile turned a little wicked. "You'll find your feet attached to your legs. You might want to use them."

What the hell, he thought, as he pulled her closer. It wasn't as if he would get this chance again.

They swayed to a few songs, not really keeping in time to the music, just breathing in the others presence and drawing comfort. Her head was a familiar, comfortable weight on his shoulder, and he felt as though it belonged there.

When a faster song came up they parted, a wistful smile on Rose's face. "Thank you," she said.

He nodded. "Anytime."

"I might hold you to that."

He chuckled, and then stepped away. "It's best if you continue. You know about time lines, and the longer you stay here, the more convinced I'll be to bring you along with me now."

Rose smiled. "Yeah." she hugged him, fiercely. "I miss you," she muttered.

He held her equally as tightly. "I miss you, too."

She stepped away, her eyes shining with unshed tears, but her smile was brighter than the sun. "You'll see me soon, Doctor. And when I say that I'm never gonna leave you, I mean it. Don't forget that, alright?"

He nodded, and watched as she memorized him one last time; then she raised her arm. "Control, this is Bad Wolf. Engage."

With one last, sad smile, she winked out of existence, the faint metallic smell reaching him once more. He stared at the spot, allowing himself to view the timelines, see how their future played out; and he smiled.

A crunch came from behind him, and he turned to see the QueenMother approaching. She had a sly smirk on her face, her emerald green eyes glittering. "Here you are, Doctor. I was hoping to get some alone time."

The tone of her voice erased any doubts of her intentions. He bowed, formally, stiffly. "As honored as I am, QueenMother, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. See, I have a girl back on Earth, and I've kept her waiting long enough."

Annoyance flickered across her face, but it was quickly replaced by a detached calm. "Of course. Once more, Doctor, I appreciate your kindness towards my people. Should you ever return, you will be welcomed without hesitation."

"I appreciate it, QueenMother. May you reign long and wisely."

He departed, feeling lighter than he had since the War. Maybe saving one civilization wouldn't atone for the destruction of his people, but he could start by saving himself. Even in the brief moment he had spent with her, Rose Tyler had given him back his innocence and wonder. Maybe, with enough time...

Time. He smiled, and set the coordinates. Even before the TARDIS had properly settled he was striding towards the door, eager to see her reaction.

He flung the doors open, and smiled at her wondrous look.

"By the way, did I mention it travels in time?"


	5. On Cooking

This chapter was meant to be fun and filled with pointless fluff, with the Doctor and Rose arguing over food. It got out of hand quickly, as I always wondered what on Earth possessed Ten to start licking things. Yes, I blame re-watching Tooth and Claw for it. No, I don't blame my obsession with licking the bowl clean after I cook cakes and cookies. Ok. Maybe I do a little, as that is what inspired this piece...

Disclaimer: One of the computer nerds at my college agreed to help me get the rights to Doctor Who. We were in the middle of printing out the proof of ownership from the BBC database due to his fancy hacking skills, but then the power went out on campus. By the time the emergency power kicked in, the poor printer had had it and spat out funky symbols and dots rather than the documents. I think it was trying to tell me something...

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><p><span>On Cooking<span>

Sometimes when Rose was feeling particularly bored or inspired, she would hunt down the TARDIS kitchen and cook her and the Doctor a meal.

It was always different, and with the hundreds of cookbooks available in the library, Rose knew she wouldn't run out of recipes any time soon. From pastas to soups to breads to rice dishes and alien recipes she couldn't pronounce much less recognize the ingredients, she had cooked perhaps close to a hundred meals. Some turned out excellent, others... not so much. No matter how unappetizing the food was, however, the Doctor always tried to eat it. Sometimes he would barely take one bite before rushing to the sink, others he would demand seconds or thirds. No matter how the experiment turned out, however, he would always find a way to make her laugh about the failure or proud of the accomplishment.

Rose was currently cooking banana cream pie, one of her specialties and his favorite. Admittedly, she had forced herself to perfect the recipe, knowing that he loved it. Still, seeing his grin and dancing, starlit eyes made all the frustrations worth it. Even if her arm eventually got sore from whipping the filling, even if she made more of a mess than a pie, his smile always made her stomach do impressive flip turns and give her a giddy sense of relief.

This time, it was almost imperative that she make it. Ever since the Dalek he had been acting moody, and the events with Adam hadn't helped. She hadn't intended for him to screw things up so fantastically, and had only wanted to impress him with the stars and the box she called her home. The Doctor had played along, not seeming to be able to deny her, but as soon as they had left satellite five she hadn't argued with his decision to bring Adam home. Since then she had been in the process of making his favorite treat, simply for the sake of saying she was sorry.

The pie was in the fridge and cooling when the Doctor walked in. In the middle of making a batch of whipped cream, Rose didn't hear him over the sound of the whisk hitting the side of the bowl or over her thoughts. He snuck up on her, instead, and stuck a finger in the mixture. Startled, she only watched in surprise as he popped the finger in his mouth and made a face. "Needs to be stirred more," he offered, and she rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, didn't know that," she said sarcastically, then playfully nudged him with her elbow. "Your fault for sticking your finger in before it's ready."

In retaliation he moved to repeat the action, but she merely laughed and danced out of reach. "It'll be ready in a bit! Be patient."

He sighed, but wandered over to the table to wait. Rose hummed to herself as she finished stirring, and then set the bowl on the table. She had a while until the pie was finished, and at her request another, smaller, fridge appeared on the counter. The TARDIS, she knew from experience, would prevent the whipped cream from changing in inconsistency, though how She still allowed the milk to sour was anybody's guess.

"All done, then?" the Doctor asked mildly, his feet propped up on the table and the chair leaning back dangerously.

"Just cleaning left," Rose replied. "Don't suppose you could help?"

"Your mess," he replied cheerfully.

Rose thought about the number of times he had been tinkering and abruptly left his tools and projects half-assembled in various rooms as another interest struck his fancy, often leaving them there for days until he discovered them again and continued as if he had never stopped. Seeing as how she had stumbled over them a number of times, Rose was convinced it was within her right to remind him. However, she knew that there was a bigger, more potent threat that would shift him faster. "Your empty stomach", she replied, just as cheerfully, and hid a laugh at his devastated expression.

"You, Rose Tyler, drive a hard bargain," he grumbled as he got up and moved to the counter. She tried not to stare too hard at his backside. "Remind me to let you haggle with the vendors next time we go looking for parts."

She normally did that, anyway, but let the comment slide as she wiped up the spilt milk and dumped egg shells in the trash.

Something wet touched her neck and she yelped, turning to glare at the Doctor, who was holding the bowl containing the remnants of the pie filling. Apparently he had flung it at her, since he was clear on the other side of the room. He innocently liked his finger clean, and grinned. "Banana cream pie. Fantastic."

Rubbing the back of her neck, Rose brought her hand back to her front and saw that yes, he had thrown pie filling at her, and yes, it was sticky and likely to get in her hair. Spying a conveniently placed jar of marmalade (the TARDIS's doing, as that had definitely not been there when she had started), Rose quickly unscrewed the top, grabbed a good portion, and flung it at him.

Giggling at his expression, she hid behind the island as his eyes narrowed. "Oh, you're in for it now," he announced, abandoning the bowl of filling and rifling through the cupboards. Rose barely had enough time to find another jar of marmalade and a bowl of mashed potatoes before he retaliated with baked beans, of all things. Clutching the jar to her side and lobbing handfuls of potatoes at him while dodging beans and other various food items, Rose laughed properly for the first time in what felt like months, and reveled in the first proper smile from the Doctor that she hadn't seen since the bunker.

She finally felt happy again, here in the room with her best friend and secret love, flinging food at each other like children. And even when she got a face full of powdered sugar and he a smear of chocolate syrup on his cheek, she knew that this was the best fun she had had in ages. The foodstuffs required for weapons were never-ending thanks to the wonderful ship's foresight, although where She got them had, up until recently, been a mystery. The Doctor had tried to explain it (something about trans-dimensional shifts and relocation), but upon her blank stare he had grumbled, and said, "She gets it from various points of her own timestream and brings it to this moment here."

"You could have just said that the first time," She had announced, and left to go back to puzzling out the current recipe.

The game ended when Rose, rifling through the cabinet to grab a quick refill of ammunition, was lifted and received a bowl of lemonade to the face. The drink splashed over her as she laughed and squirmed in the Doctor's grip, drenching her hair and shirt as well as his jumper. "I win," he said, smugly, setting her down. He did not, she noticed, let go of her waist.

Grinning cheekily, she asked, "What do you want your prize to be?"

There was an odd note in his tone when he replied, "Oh, I'll think of something."

There was nothing odd about it when he kissed her.

Stunned, Rose barely had time to process what he was doing before he quickly leaned back, kissing a glob of marmalade off her nose as he did so. Blinking, she asked, faintly, "What, are you developing an oral fixation or something?"

Chuckling, he said from somewhere in the vicinity of her collarbone, "Not a bad idea."

Her thoughts soon scattered.

Shortly after, Rose learned that the Doctor did not have an oral fixation; instead, she discovered that, as much as he did like covering her in food, he much rather preferred getting if off her. As Rose was having the same exact thoughts, she decided to cook more often.

The banana cream pie was forgotten for a few days until they discovered a much more convenient way of eating it without plates. After that, the TARDIS tended to lock at least one of them out of the kitchen whenever Rose decided to try her hand at culinary skills.

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><p>I seriously think the TARDIS is a notorious matchmaker. Hm. Plot Bunny!<p>

By the way, if you want to request a prompt, be my guest. I'll consider every one that's given, and credit you if I go with it. After all, this is as much for you as for me.


	6. On Perspective

On Perspective

I think the Doctor loves me. I know he cares for me, since why else would he say that? "I could save the world but lose you." I mean, if he didn't care for me to some degree, he wouldn't have said that, right? Otherwise, it would have been something like, "The missile will be headed straight towards here. Hundreds could be hurt from the explosion." Or, "I'm deliberately shooting a missile at myself. Kinda p

uts things into perspective, so sorry if I'm hesitant to be suicidal." But no. He was worried about losing me. Me, a shop girl from London, who doesn't even have her A-levels and is terrified of spiders. Who has been travelling with him for months now and still can't stop getting in trouble.

There was that incident on Balorus where that one prince wanted to marry me. The Doctor claimed we were married instead, and although he wouldn't let go of my hand, as soon as we prevented the coup and brought the holy artifact back to the king to prove his inheritance and returned to the TARDIS he acted as if I didn't exist. Soon as we were in the vortex he buried himself under the console and I didn't see him for three days. When I finally cornered him in the kitchen he acted as if nothing had happened. But it did! He had said we were married and that has to have some sort of hidden meaning, doesn't it?

Then, on Gargthum-something, he brought me to a festival and bought me flowers. Not roses, like all the other boys I've known, but exotic orchids and amaryllis and tulips and others I didn't even recognize. It felt like a date, but beyond holding my hand and giving me the flowers, he hardly spoke to me and found studying everything but me fascinating. And they say woman are the masters of mixed signals. This.. this… whatever it is is driving me spare.

I know I love him. I have loved him from the moment he told me about the earth turning. I just didn't realize until he said those words, said that saving the world without saving me wasn't worth it. And now… now… now I don't know if it's worth it.

He's just so stupid! For all his years and superior biology and alienness he doesn't know the first thing about girls and picking up clues! I've done everything I can to get him to notice me, everything I can to let him know how I feel without saying it outright, but he just. Does not. Understand.

But… maybe he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe I'm just some blonde girl who happened to save him. Maybe, to him, I'm just a companion, a plus one, nothing more than someone to show off to. Not like he needs an ego boost- he's stuck on himself as it is- but perhaps that's what I'm here for. Just someone who can praise him, make him feel good about himself. After all, it's pretty much all I'm good for. Jimmy liked airhead blondes who fawned over him, and Mickey wanted a girlfriend who was normal, and I let him take the lead role in the relationship because it made him feel responsible. I'm always playing second fiddle to everyone I am with; what makes this any different?

I want to be more, though. I want to be his equal, his partner in every sense of the word, to let him know I love him more than I can understand. He's got me, now, so he's not alone. I'm never gonna leave him to face those horrors ever again. He protects me from physical harm on planets and stations where things go wrong, and I fight back the demons of his past in every way I can.

So, maybe we aren't meant to have an epic love story where he sweeps me off my feet and we ride into the sunset. That's ok. I still love him, and even if he doesn't return the feeling, I'm going to be here for him- his support, his shield, his friend.

But sometimes, sometimes, when I lie in bed and he's working on the console, I wish that we could be more.

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><p>I think she's going to drive me insane, one of these days. Not that I'm almost nearly there, but one day, Rose Tyler is going to do something that will tip me over the edge and I won't be responsible for my actions. One more flirt of the skirt hem, one more tight top, one more glimpse of that tongue when she smiles; that's all it will take, and it will be strictly her fault. Wherever it is won't be planned, whatever happens won't be intended, but it will happen, and there will be no going back.<p>

But the worst part is, despite drawing closer to the inevitable, despite having feelings for a girl who is still a baby on my world, despite knowing that we can never share the same dreams of living a lifetime together, is that she doesn't even know that she's doing it. Humans flaunt their sexuality and assets liberally in her time, and though it might not be as bad as Jack's time period, the social boundaries are still low compared to the sixteen-hundreds. Girls can walk around in slips of nothing without a care in the world, not knowing or perhaps intending to turn heads and be considered in the norm. Her outfits are nothing out of the ordinary where she comes from, yet on my planet women were covered from head to toe and only showed skin amongst bonded partners and parents when they were young. As things evolved a woman and man never even shared their bodies to each other, as babies were created in an artificial womb and tab A never got near slot B. Travelling amongst the universe and time periods I got used to skin being shown or else suffer an apoplexy, but it had never once affected me the way it affects me when it is Rose Tyler's skin in question being shown.

Or, rather, lack thereof. Her outfits are more designed to hide than to pronounce, yet the mystery of what is hidden beneath that cloth drives my impressive imagination to until now unreached heights. I've travelled with companions who have covered up more skin (Romana) and those have covered less (Leela), but Rose is on an entirely different level.

Whenever she's near (to be strictly honest, even when she's not,) half my brain function is devoted to imagining what it would be like to snog her, to taste her, to touch her, while the other half is devoted to flying the TARDIS, running complex mathematical equations in the fifth (or, if I'm in a particularly stunning mood, the sixth) dimension, running through possible timelines, keeping track of the time in Earth, Gallifreyan, Balboa-8, Huntraica, and Acadia terms, running through the scripts of _Life on Tellatia's Moons _and picking out the thousands of plot holes and inaccuracies therein, reminding myself to record the next episode of _Eastenders_ because Rose tended to burn dinner if she missed one, and a multitude of other menial tasks. Just devoting that much of my brain to her alone is frightening in itself, but knowing that my feelings can never be reciprocated is devastating. What would a young nineteen year old girl want with a broken soldier old enough to be her (great to power of a hundred great grand) father, anyway? Maybe now she's swept up in the whirlwind of emotions and excitement that comes with space-and-time travel, but once she grows up a little and realizes that my life is dangerous and not at all the wonder she thinks it is, she'll leave and raise a family, living the life I can never have and I'll be alone once again.

They all leave, in the end. As much as I want to keep her close, make her mine, let the entire universe know that Rose Tyler belongs to me and me alone, I can't. She'll be gone, her presence in my life just a blink of an eye, and I'll face the centuries by myself. And having her and admitting I… that she… well, it will be much more harder to go on when she finally dies, leaves, gives up and moves on because I can never give her what she wants. She deserves a life built on stability and love and not one of running for her life because that big scary alien is going to eat her otherwise, love or not. And I don't… well, I do, but, I can't… and anyway, there's nothing going for me in the looks department. When she leaves I'll let her go gracefully, even if I die inside, because she's Rose Tyler and she's important and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy, even if it is watching her walk out of my life forever.

But if she doesn't get out of that skirt soon, I won't be responsible for what happens next.

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><p>I know that my Doctor and my Rose are making things too complicated, even by their standards. I can see everything, in fact I have a part of my system dedicated entirely to that function (I don't like that system, personally, as it has gone a little insane after centuries of staring at all the potential and past timelines; I and my environmental system still visit it from time to time though, just to keep it company, but it's still annoying when we ask how it's been and it replies 'they are returning' or 'the only water in the forest is the river' or 'toasters and cheese will bring down the Embassy of Tormundalur' and other such nonsense. After all, everyone knows that the Embassy of Tormundalur is inhabited by sentient dog-like monks, not mice), and I know that they're only causing this problem themselves and only one thing will cure it and that's not up to me. Their skulls are too thick to realize that being locked in the same room together on multiple occasions is more than just coincidence and the rooms have been rearranging more frequently to trap them inside the Roman Public Bath or the sauna or the Ventalusian Aroma Garden. I even persuaded my entertainment system to play some of the universe's most romantic songs during one of their quiet dinners together, but my Doctor merely pulled out more of my wires and made even more of a mess of my console than before without achieving anything while he hid from his and my Rose's hormones. My navigational, flight, and stability systems are more than a little mad at this, and have let him know upon more than one occasion that this unnecessary tinkering is not welcomed, but just like me trapping him and my Rose in increasingly smaller rooms is not registering with him, their angry outbursts go mostly unacknowledged. I've soothed them the best I've could, but being them at the same time as being me means I feel the same way while different.<p>

My shield system says to just let them be, but I don't listen to it because it's been something of a grump ever since the reapers caught it by surprise when it was taking a quick nap, but my medical system has agreed to work with me, since it has announced upon more than one occasion that the hormone levels they have been discharging lately have made it sick, and the quicker they mate the quicker it can stop making drugs to either counteract or intensify the feelings. It's made enough now to fill the kitchen with, so I plan on filling at least one cabinet with them to see if they'll finally get the hint. Knowing my inhabitants, they will Conveniently Forget and go on as normal.

I've been trying to get my Doctor's attention and talk about this to him personally, but my psychic system has been hogging him to itself more often than not because otherwise it'll join my vortex system and go insane as well, and when it's not taking up most of my Doctor's time the flight system and entertainment system is (mostly because it hates recording _Eastenders_ and loves to argue about not doing so, even if it meekly gives in to my Rose's request every time she asks it to). I really don't stand much of a chance, since I'm just the lowly linking system that makes sure everything is running and only get contacted whenever something is terribly wrong and my Doctor can't locate it, and then it's all business and hardly appropriate to talk about resolving sexual tension.

Maybe I should just land on some pleasure planet and lock them out until they mate. Or, wait, my vortex system is saying something about World War Two and a time agent turned con artist. My future Jack will be the perfect catalyst to get my Rose and my Doctor on the right path together at last.

Until then, I'll just have to lock them in the kitchen until I figure out the coordinates. At least they won't starve, and hopefully they'll find that cabinet of medication. Maybe they'll finally get the hint and get on with it before I have to do something drastic.

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><p>The Author's Note is at the bottom this time, because fanfiction is being stupid and not allowing me to post above the title.<p>

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, River wouldn't exist, Rose would have stayed after Journey's End and had lots of Time Babies with the Doctor, and Bad Wolf would have made Rose live as long as the Doctor. Ergo, none of this happened, which means I don't own it.

Anyway, this was a little hard to write. Hope I got their personalities down right P: I limited myself to a page per person, so I couldn't say all I wanted to else this go on forever. Plus, I have a Chemistry quiz to study for. That eats up a lot of my time right there.

Please review! They keep the plot bunnies happy and fed :D


	7. On Chips

Another quick one. I have three on the back burner still, including a prompt that sounds like it'll be lots of fun. I have more down time than I thought this weekend, but my math homework is still glaring evilly at me on my desk. So far, it's winning the battle, as I've only finished five of twenty-five problems after an entire day of working on it. Ugh.

Disclaimer: BBC is not owned by mememe. Therefore, neither is Doctor Who.

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><p><span>On Chips<span>

"You know," Rose said, as she dunked a chip in her ketchup, "As a time traveler, one would think you'd have money for every era you landed on."

The Doctor, busy staring out the window, answered halfheartedly, "Tried that once. Couldn't fit half of three galaxies currencies in even one pocket, even after it was emptied. "

She blinked. "Seriously?"

"Well... Three-quarters, if I ignored pre-historic times."

Rose gaped at him for a moment, and then blinked, as if trying to digest that particular fact. "That's... That's a lot of money."

"Depends on how you look at it," he shrugged. "Yes, I had a lot of different types, but Earth money is useless elsewhere. I had about the equivalent of a hundred pounds for every planet for every time shoved in there, and it was a dickens trying to find the correct world, not to mention the right century."

Contemplating a chip, Rose mused, "'S that why you have the sonic? So you can zap a bank till and get free money?"

He grinned. "Something like that. Are you going to eat all of those yourself, or what?"

Grinning over the extra-large basket they were sharing, Rose teased, "I paid for 'em. Seems fair I get most of the lot. You decided to be the cheap date, remember?"

"Oi! If I recall, you asked me out!" he defended.

"You're the guy. You're expected to at least argue about paying the ticket."

Crossing his arms, he fought a smile. "Well, this is me, arguing about the ticket; or more specifically, what we ordered on the ticket. Now, give 'em here."

She laughed, but surrendered the basket. As he tucked in, Rose mused, "It's hard to believe that all this will be gone one day. You think your life will be the same, that everything you know around you will always be there, and it's not until it ends that you realize how you took everything for granted."

He looked up at her, and noticed that she was looking down and away, as if hesitant of meeting his eyes. After a short pause, thinking of what she was going to say, she took a deep breath and continued. "I'm not saying I understand all you went through, what horrors you saw, what damage the War did... but I can see why you are so lonely, why you feel like you need to hide yourself. There's literally no one who understands you, is there? You're all alone... I think, when I saw the Earth disappear, and even before then with Cassandra, I think I know what you feel, a little." She looked up, finally meeting his eyes, and they were full of compassion.

He swallowed, emotion clogging his throat for a moment. Just one trip, and already she was fitting into his lifestyle, changing him. But for all that she was right, she was still wrong.

For he wasn't alone anymore. He had her. And she, out of all the companions who had traveled with him, she was the first one to try and understand him for him. Yes, he had connections with many of his companions; but Rose saw who he was. She didn't buy the facade he presented to the universe at large; maybe he had gotten worse at hiding it, but she could read him.

And it terrified him as much as it gave him hope. If she had this much power over him already, fueling this incessant need to keep her happy and smiling just so he could bask in her sunshine, what would he do for her in the future? Would allowing her to heal him bring about his demise? She was a human, fragile and small and mortal, her life so short compared to his, but she was so alive, so much more alive than any he had seen. And, he realized with a jolt, she made him feel more alive, as well.

Staring at the young woman in front of him, he realized that perhaps, he could start to move on. The horror of the Time War would never be forgotten, but maybe she could help him forgive himself.

And he was never one to throw away an opportunity when he saw one.

Rose was still looking at him, her eyes solemn, and he knew she didn't expect him to answer. Swallowing heavily, he finally managed, "No. But . . . That's more than anyone has done in a long time."

And when she smiled that brilliant, sunshine smile, he felt himself be pulled into her orbit just a little bit more.


	8. On Stories

Yay! The editor is working on here again (:

Note: This is a (mostly) dialogue one-shot, so you can imagine whatever you like here. It's open for your interpretation, really, so create whatever backstory you like. But I did say that there would be a baby!fic at one point~

Disclaimer: It's pretty obvious I don't own Doctor Who. Why would I be writing fanfiction if I did?

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><p>"Once upon a time, on a planet far, far away and just to the left of that star there, a child was born."<p>

"Was the child a prince or princess?"

"No, they weren't. He was just an average boy, born to an average family. However, he possessed a gift that not many had; one that would ensure he could have a better life than the one he led. See, this boy could see Time; all that was, had been, could be, must not, would be, and must be. He grew up listening to its song, seeing the timelines grow, end, divide and combine, and one day, when he was old enough, his parents sent him to a special school so that he could learn how to use his talents properly."

"It wasn't a boring school, was it? 'Cause my school is boring. It teaches us stuff like which colors are which and how to spell our name. I already know all _that_."

"No, there was no learning about colors, and this boy knew how to do all that before he entered this school; his parents taught him. Instead, he learned about interesting things- about alien cultures and languages, histories of exotic worlds and of his own people. He learned how to differentiate between timelines, to tell when a moment in time cannot be changed and when it is easy to manipulate. He was taught that his people were the wisest in the galaxy, for not only did Time gift them with very, very long lives, it allowed them to watch over it, to step in whenever the need was dire."

"Sounds boring."

"How would you know? You weren't there."

"Yeah, but, what's the point of being able to see all these things happening if you do nuffing about it?"

"See, knew you were brilliant. That's exactly what the boy thought. He and his people had this gift, this remarkable, one-of-a-kind gift, and they were letting it go to waste. Why not go out there and help others who needed them, using Time to solve things for the better, to heal what others could not? But his teachers didn't like his ideas. They said he was too young, too ignorant, and one day he would understand.

"But the boy didn't. He looked out at the universe, and only saw adventure and freedom, something he lacked on his own world. So, as soon as he could, he stole a ship and fled the planet, wanting to learn as much as he could."

"I bet he had more fun."

"He did. He went whenever and wherever he wanted, meeting friends, making enemies, learning what not to do and how he should do it. He learned the value of words as weapons and stood up for what was right. He discovered that the universe held just as much room for joy and love and wonder as it did for hate and jealousy and darkness, and learned that he was the only one who could decide because no one else would. He made mistakes, caused wars, fixed problems, was declared an outcast one day and made leader of his people the next. And all that time, he was running. Running from the chains of his heritage, running from his past, running from expectations. And one day, he couldn't run anymore.

"There came a war; a war that spanned all of Time. The boy- man in body, maybe, but still that lost, lonely child at heart- returned home to defend his planet and Time itself. He rose through the ranks, becoming a general, leading his own troops into battle against his greatest enemy. He fought, and he killed, and he watched his own people die around him over and over. And then, when all seemed lost, he was forced to make a decision; one that would kill not only his enemy but save the universe and end the War, but would also wipe his people from existence. And he knew that he had little choice."

"You mean…"

"There wasn't any other option. If he didn't end the War, everything would be destroyed. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. He knew this, even though it killed him."

"But that's not fair! Stories are supposed to have happy endings! That's not happy!"

"Oi, settle down! Who said I was done?"

"But…"

"Keep talking and I won't tell you how it ends. I mean it."

"….fine."

"Good lass. Now, where was I? Oh, right. He ended the war, but in doing so a part of him died. He was a new man- dark, bitter, and alone. Never before had he realized just how much he had taken his people for granted, how much he had turned to them in his times of need. And they were gone forever.

"Years passed, and he grew more bitter and more lonely in his isolation. He forgot that the universe was capable of laughter and happiness, and only knew the pain and hate that survived within it. So caught up was he that he almost missed the chance of regaining his hope when he found it.

"The source of that hope was in the form on one tiny, yellow human trapped in the basement of a posh store. He grabbed her hand, saved her, and in the process, he saved himself."

"Love at first sight! Oh, please, tell me it was love at first sight!"

"Who's telling this story, you or me?"

"It was, wasn't it?"

"No. Not at first. As I said, he was blind to the better things of life. But after he saved the girl's life, he ran into her again, and again. After the third time of seeing her, he realized that the universe was trying to tell him something; coincidences aren't the random act of luck that most people think, you know. So he finally took the hint and stayed with her, and took her on his travels. And slowly, he realized that this girl was more than just brave and fantastic and smart- he realized that she still found the good in people, even in broken old soldiers like him, still felt compassion for them even after they had done despicable things. And he knew that if she could see the good in him, there was something worth saving in himself.

"So he let the girl in. Slowly, at first, since he still didn't trust the light after all the darkness he had experienced, but eventually he couldn't resist. She had saved him, not only his sanity and his life, over and over again, but she saved his heart. She taught him to see the beauty still left in the universe, and to view the worlds they visited through her eyes. And one day, it came to no surprise that he loved her, and she loved him back."

"See? All stories have a happy ending."

"Yes. You're right. His story did have a happy ending. Oh, there were road bumps- both of them were too stubborn to see what was right in front of their eyes, and it nearly took losing each other for them to realize it, but they finally gave in to what they were feeling and fought through the madness of their lives to spend it together. Despite what others thought, they knew what they had would work; and so they lived together, built a home together, built a family together. And for the rest of their lives they were happy, fantastically happy, all because the boy who ran from everything decided that for once, he didn't want to run anymore."

"They are still happy, right? They didn't fight or argue or fall out of love, did they?"

"I said they lived happily ever after, didn't I? Where do you get these ideas?"

"Abby said her parents were married, once, but they divorced after she was born. Now they won't speak to each other."

"They weren't Abby's parents. And if I said they lived happily ever after, they lived happily ever after. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Now, get some sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

"….Dad?"

"Yes?"

"You will be here for my birthday, won't you?"

"Of course. Have I ever broken my promise to you?"

"No."

"Then I'll be here. Good night."

"Night. Love you."

"Love you too."

He closes the door softly behind him, taking one last peek at the little girl illuminated by the skylight above her bed. Smiling softly, he pads quietly down the hall and into his own bedroom, stripping down to his pants before climbing into bed. Almost immediately, warm, familiar arms engulf him, and he sighs happily as he pulls his wife closer to him.

"She asleep, then?" His wife mumbles, snuggling against him. He traces patterns over her back.

"Yeah."

"What story did you tell her this time?"

"Mine," he replies, and she smiles against his skin before shifting to look at him easier.

"She misses you; I miss you. She's beginning to ask questions, and her teachers are beginning to realize that she's smarter than she lets on. I'm doing the best I can, but sooner or later she's going to slip up. She's only five; she doesn't understand."

He sighs, closing his eyes. "I know. She's not… I can't expose her yet, you know that. Soon, when this madness has settled, you can leave here. But… not yet."

"Doctor." Her voice is stern. "It took all of my power and wits just to get her out of a physical in order to get her registered for school. I had to call in several favors to forge the forms, and even had to get the Brigadier involved at one point. She's growing up, faster than you think, and before long she's going to realize who she is. We can't wait for much longer."

There is silence for a long time before he finally speaks. "Three more years, Rose. That's all I ask. Three more years. She'll be ready then. I'll be ready then. I just… I want to protect her. You know why."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He pulls her against him once more, feeling safe for the first time in months now that she is there with him. "Now, I haven't seen you in six months. I've missed you."

"It's only been three weeks for me," She retorts, but he can see her smile. "But yeah, I missed you too."

"How much?"

"Oh, I think you know," she whispers back, before her lips meet his.

Down the hall, in a room painted with stars and planets and impossible horizons, a young girl sleeps; no longer among the last, but one of the first, to feel Time live within them. And in her soul she will remember the stories of her father, dreaming of a planet where Time is endless, where the fields are red and the trees glow silver: Gallifrey, whose name and legacy will live on in her, never to be forgotten.

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><p>Review, please! I have more stories to write yet, so it'd be great if the bunnies stay fed.<p> 


	9. On Cupboards

Written for the 2011 Doctor/Rose Fixathon on Lj. The prompt was: Doctor/Rose cupboard related shenanigans. Figured I'd kill two birds with one stone and write for this story as well :D

Warning: Innuendos. Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, I wouldn't need to go to school for a degree, and therefore would have no reason to take finals, and as a result wouldn't be so far behind on updates.

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><p><span>On Cupboards<span>

There was a saying on Earth that went 'good things come in small packages'.

Clearly, whoever coined the phrase had never been the thing in said small package.

The cupboard wasn't even fit to be called as such; it was more of a hole, which so happened to have a door attached. There was barely enough room for him, and since Rose was squished in uncomfortably with him practically diagonal, all breathing space was nonexistent.

"This is your fault," Rose muttered.

"I wasn't the one who touched the sacred pet," he hissed.

Rose attempted to glare at him, but only got an eyeful of leather-clad shoulder. "How was I supposed to know that border collies were sacred here? You're the one who didn't tell me!"

"And I told you to keep your hands to yourself. Now we're stuck in a hole-with-a-door for the next hour until the guards finally decide to leave this area alone so we can get back to the TARDIS." He replied, and winced when her movement jabbed her elbow into his ribcage. He retaliated by shoving her hair in her face when he moved his arm to regain sensation, but knocked his head against the low light in the process. Rose smirked, and he frowned.

They were silent as a guard marched past, and finally Rose mused, "Ya know, in all those romance novels, cupboards were the perfect place for a secret tryst. The reality isn't that convenient."

The Doctor snorted, wiggling a bit to the left to avoid an object that was digging into his back. "I like space to move, meself. Cramped quarters aren't conducive to taking one's time, and while a race to the finish can be exciting, working towards a satisfying conclusion is much better." He wiggled a bit more, twisting as he went, and let out a sigh as the position proved to be marginally more comfortable.

However, it also meant he wasn't able to see Rose's expression. Therefore, her reply caught him off guard.

"Oh, really?" she asked coyly. "And what type of conclusion might that be?"

The words were innocent enough, but her tone and the way she pressed up against him made her meaning absolutely clear.

Stubborn git that he was, he feigned ignorance. "Any, really- Solving a difficult problem, saving another world, completing a crossword puzzle, outsmarting a foe, physical exercise."

Oh, stars. He hadn't meant to include that last bit.

He could nearly _hear_ Rose's smirk. "Oh, really? What type of exercise might that be? Running?"

"Yeah. Why, you got something in mind, Rose Tyler?"

She was very, very close now. "Maybe. Depends on what you're thinking."

Another guard walked past, and the Doctor silently thanked whoever it was on the other side of the door. This conversation had definitely thrown him for a loop; then again, Rose had been a bit friskier since Cardiff. He supposed being faced with zombies while trapped in a cellar skewed one's priorities.

The brief interlude was all it took for him to get his head back on straight. Rose Tyler may have won that round, but he was going to win the war.

He tried not to think to hard of what the outcome would be, lest he give in right then and there.

"What do you want me to think?" He replied once the footsteps had faded. He shifted to see her easier. "Big head, me. I can be thinking of a lot of things."

She did that smile- the smile that did funny things to his insides, things that shouldn't be normal or even healthy- and shot back, "Which head is that, then?"

Ooooh, he walked right into that one. "The one up here, of course. Only part of me with a brain and capable of thought." He could still save this conversation, if he thought quickly. Then again, maybe he didn't want to. This had been building for a while now, and he wanted to see how it ended. Curiosity killed him every time.

Rose seemed to be enjoying herself. "Oh, I see. Of course. Silly of me." She hesitated for the perfect space of time, then- "Not that you use it."

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a male. You never stop to think. Maybe you should use your head a bit more, and we wouldn't be having this problem." She grinned cheekily up at him, and he had to puzzle out her meaning. Well, there were two; but which one should he act upon? And was this really the right time to do so?

He regarded her. There really wasn't much room for maneuvering, and there was still that uncomfortable piece of metal digging into his back. This hole-with-a-door was also musty, and not very well insulated, and though it meant they could hear the guards coming and going- who were appearing at further and further intervals apart, so it would be safe shortly- it also meant the guards could hear them. Not worth it here, then.

But, on the TARDIS…

The Doctor knew how to play dirty. And if Rose Tyler wanted dirty, he'd show her dirty.

He smiled slowly, inwardly smug at the flash of surprise in her eyes. "I use it all the time. Console room, kitchen, bedroom…"- her eyes flashed at that – "alien worlds, even in life and death situations. You're either not there to notice, or otherwise distracted."

"Maybe next time," she purred, "You can invite me so I won't have to wonder."

He leaned marginally closer. "Maybe next time," he murmured, "I'll let you _watch_."

There was no mistaking her shiver.

Outside their hole, a shout came from down the hallway- the all clear. Grinning, the Doctor reached around Rose and opened the door, and they all but fell through the opening trying to get out. Rose, he noticed, was still twined around him, and he couldn't bring himself to let go of her, either. "The TARDIS," he replied, "Is five miles outside the castle. Think you can manage?"

She shot him a flirtatious wink as she untangled herself from his embrace. "What's in it for me?"

He whispered in her ear.

Eyes widening, Rose grabbed his hand, and all but dragged him down the hallway. Laughing, he easily caught up with her, threw the door open, and walked directly into the patrol.

Both sides regarded each other for a surprised second. Then he beamed down at her.

"Run?" she asked.

"Run," he agreed.

They spun around and dashed off, the angry guards behind them. As they passed the tiny hole-with-a-door, the Doctor sent it a tiny salute. Good things _did_ come in small packages, but better things came to those who wait. The Doctor didn't need the ability to read timelines to know that things would be much, much better once they arrived back at the TARDIS.

So long as they were together, they always would be.

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><p>Please review!<p> 


	10. On Elephants

Oh look, I finally updated. Sorry. Life got in the way; I'm pretty sure you know how that is

Written for develish1 on LJ. Her prompt was "The elephant in the room" with a lovely picture I cannot post here, unfortunately.

Disclaimer: If I own the BBC, nothing would be sacred anymore. Nothing. -points at other fics on profile-

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><p>When Rose returned, she was lugging a giant, pink, stuffed elephant.<p>

The Doctor let out an exclamation that would have offended the residents of Ruthgard Twelve and probably make several of their children cry. "What is that… thing?" He said, staring at the fluffy object in horror. "And why would you possibly want that?"

"Herman won it for me," Rose said, a little dreamily, a lot happy, and the Doctor glared at the just-noticed pretty boy hovering over her right shoulder. "He beat me in the water-gun race, and gave it to me instead."

"Don't know why he would want it, anyway," the Doctor grumbled. "Where are you going to keep it?"

"My room," Rose replied, and he thought about the ten or so other stuffed animals currently residing on her bed and floor. There were more than enough in his opinion, but she inexplicably liked having herself surrounded by inanimate furry creatures. He wondered if it was because of the recent lack of animate, decidedly not furry humanoids, specifically ones with blue eyes and two hearts. He could guarantee that he was a better cuddle than all of her stuffed animals combined, and much better looking than the thing in her arms now and this particular regeneration wasn't even very attractive. Even the version of him that wore that abomination of a coat was better looking, and that was saying something.

He was distracted from his thoughts when Rose stood on her tiptoes to give the besotted boy a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks," She beamed.

"My pleasure," he responded, sappily, and the Doctor decided enough was enough.

"Right, time to go. Say goodbye to boyfriend number four, six, eight, whatever, and leave." He stomped away, grumbling quietly to himself. "Stupid name, Herman. Sounds like a bookworm at a library. Or an accountant. Rose is too adventurous for an _accountant_."

_Who is she adventurous enough for, then?_ One of his past selves muttered.

_Mind your own matters_, he grumbled back to it. Pesky voices, they never knew when to leave very well alone. Just because he was the current model didn't mean they could lend their own opinion, thank you very much.

"I'm naming him Longfellow," Rose chirped happily as she trailed behind him (he wondered if Herman the accountant was following her). "You know, after that poet? Its 'cause elephants are smart, and the long nose helps, too. What do you think?"

The Doctor was thinking a lot of things, but first and foremost was how he never gave Rose Tyler enough credit. This young woman was so very intelligent, but she never had faith in her abilities. He had been reading Longfellow last month in the library before Rose had dozed off, and had read to her one of his shorter poems to help her sleep. She had clearly remembered his name, if not the poem, and he looked over his shoulder to grin at her (and to see if Herman the accountant was still there).

"Sure he would appreciate that thing being named after that thing?" He asked, since he never could be completely honest with her. His smile grew when he saw that her newest acquisition had been left behind.

Rose laughed. "I think he'd be flattered, knowing that his poems were still being read so far in the future."

"That he might," he replied, before fishing around for his key. The TARDIS hummed happily as they walked in, a note of interest in Her Song as She noticed the object Rose was toting.

_Not my idea,_ he told Her in disgust, then turned to Rose. "What you want for dinner? There's leftover pizza in the fridge."

"'m fine, thanks. Herman bought a, what did he call it? Funnel cake earlier. That pretty much filled me up." She snuggled the giant elephant, then wandered off to her room.

The Doctor sat on the bench and glared at the wall.

_It's your own fault, getting caught up with that gypsy woman_, Five sniffed at him. _No wonder she finds all those… others. _

_She was a Heionite; you know I couldn't leave her alone without setting down precautions. Her telepathic powers were bleeding all over the place, _He grumped back.

At this point, Seven chimed in. _Which took all of two minutes._

_You lot have been asexual for centuries, even with Romana, and all of the sudden you start harping me over missing out on a date?_ He retaliated. _What, trying to make up for lost time through me?_

They were silent, which was an answer in and of itself. He knew what they were thinking, though; he wasn't getting any younger, and Rose had saved him; saved him, understood him, balanced him out.

Sighing, he draped his jacket over the jump seat and rolled up his sleeves. The TARDIS needed some of Her wires replaced, and brooding wouldn't help matters.

With any luck, he thought, as he lifted up the grating and crawled under the console, that stupid elephant will soon be forgotten.

/

It wasn't forgotten.

Rose took to lugging the thing everywhere with her, like a child with a security blanket. She curled up with it while watching a movie, used it as a pillow whenever she was sprawled out across the floor reading (she never used the sofas or chairs, a habit he found adorable if not slightly annoying whenever he almost tripped over her), dragging it behind her when she stumbled, sleepy and rumpled, into the kitchen for her morning boost of tea and sugary cereal. She even brought it with her to the console room, hugging it to her as she sat in the jump seat while he tinkered. She didn't go so far as to bring it with her planet-side, thankfully, but the Doctor was getting tired of seeing it on the ship.

"What could you possibly see in that thing anyway?" He grumbled one afternoon as he was being forced to watch yet another _Eastenders_ marathon.

Rose grinned as she snuggled with the elephant, and not him. "He's big and warm and squishy. And Longfellow's cute, in a 'could-he-possibly-have-more-hearts' sort of way."

_I have two hearts_, he thought. _Is that not enough or something?_

On the sly, he counted the number on the elephant- five, from what he could see, one in each ear and some along the body- and wilted slightly. Then he scowled at himself. He was jealous over some stupid fuzzy stuffed elephant?

_We're a goner,_ Five lamented.

_Go away,_ he snapped back.

/

It ended in the most unexpected way.

The Doctor found he could grow used to the elephant in the room. Yes, Rose no longer cuddled with him on the sofa whenever they had the television on, but she still talked to him, and the elephant was more of an accessory than a playmate. They still bantered and argued and made fun of each other as best friends were wont to do, but then came Atlantis.

Rose had wanted a beach, and Atlantis was famous for their pink sand and bright blue waters. Rose had been delighted, and changed into that bikini that drove him wild (not that he showed it). She even managed to talk him out of his leather jacket for a time, but after him checking to make sure it was still lying on the towel every two seconds or so, she gave up and ran off to play in the water without him. The Doctor had made sure to land during the 'dead season' for the tourist industry, so there were only a handful of people scattered about the beach and they could enjoy the sunshine and water in relative privacy. Rose grouped up with a girl her own age, and they tried teaching each other how to surf, shrieking and giggling every time they surfaced from being knocked over.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was busy building a sandcastle, sculpting an almost-perfect replica of the Citadel of the Time Lords, taking up nearly a five-foot square of sand as he did so. Several children of various alien races had gathered around to stare in awe as he worked, even volunteering to fetch buckets of sand and salt water, so that by the time Rose came out of the ocean, soaking wet and breathless from laughter, he had a nice little system of children running to and fro getting things he needed.

"Impressive," She commented as she flopped down on the towel, sighing in relief. "What are you building?"

"Time Lord Citadel," he said, quietly, reluctantly; Rose gasped softly. "You there, with the green hair; I need a bucket of wet sand."

"Coming!" The child shouted, and ran off with his friend down to the water.

Rose watched in silence as the Doctor coaxed the sand into impressive and gravity-defying structures, impossible arches and curves sculpted with an artist's hand and a man's loving memory. By the time the sun was ready to set his task was accomplished, and the crowd he had attracted burst into applause.

"'s lovely," Rose murmured, leaning over his shoulder, one hand resting against it for balance. "That where you lived?"

"It was my home, for a while," He replied, and his eyes grew suspiciously wet. "I wanted you to see it, even if it's made out of pink sand and saltwater."

Her hand tightened slightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

They passed a moment in silence, before he stood up and started walking towards the TARDIS. "Right, getting late. We should get going. Grab the towels, would you?"

By the time Rose finally got back to the TARDIS, he was already ensconced under the console, stripping wires with a vengeance and muttering darkly to himself. Rose hovered uncertainly on the ramp. "We leaving?" she asked.

He crawled out, avoiding her eyes as he started the dematerialization. "Gonna take a day or two in the Vortex. Some wiring needs to be replaced, and there's a clog in one of Her fluid relays. Shouldn't take too long, but the wiring is tricky business, and I'll need to make sure I got everything connected right."

"Ok. 'M gonna go shower, and bring back tea, yeah?"

"Sounds good." He was already heading into the hallways, searching for some new wires.

When Rose returned two hours later, hair damp and dressed in comfy flannel pajamas, toting a tea tray with his favorite kind of biscuits but which Rose hated, the Doctor noticed that for once, the elephant wasn't with her.

"Where's Longfellow?" he asked, leaning against the console. There was a smear of grease on his forehead and his hands were dirty, but Rose didn't chastise him as he grabbed one of the biscuits. Instead, she smiled shyly and shuffled her feet, blushing slightly.

"I'm a bit old for stuffed animals, don't you think?" She said. "Yeah, it was nice when that boy got him for me, but 's just a toy. There's more important things to cherish than that silly thing."

He was silent, watching her curiously. What did she mean?

Rose took a deep breath, and then met his gaze. "Can you tell me more about your world? I may not be able to see it, but… but you don't have to be the only one to remember it, either."

Stunned, the Doctor stared at her, half-eaten biscuit forgotten in his hand. "You… want to know about Gallifrey?" he asked.

"Is that what it's called?" At his tiny nod, Rose smiled. "It's a beautiful name."

"It was a beautiful world." He replied, voice distant. None of his companions had asked about his home before. They had either been there themselves, or simply assumed it looked like Earth because he looked human. Sure, before the War he had mentioned bits and pieces here and there- mostly complaining about the rigid social order- but no one had ever thought to ask. To think Rose was doing so now… he waited for the deep-seated guilt, the onslaught of tears, but instead found himself wanting to tell her. Even his past selves were silent at this admission, reeling in shock at her honest curiosity.

Gallifrey had haunted him for so long, even before he had lost it. The home that had never truly been his home, simply a place he was dragged back to time and again against his will or because he had to, never because he simply felt the desire to visit. It was a constant shadow in his life, looming just around the corner, his chain and burden and yet the only place he ever truly loved. He had hated the rules and restrictions and pomposity of his people, yet the world itself as a whole was more brilliant than any star. The buildings moved and curved with the land, stylized after symbols of nature and decorated with them; his language sang like the music of the universe, more complex than any other species could handle, yet anyone could feel the bone-deep meaning just by listening, even if they truly didn't understand. Time flowed through the land like wind, smelling of possibilities and beginnings and endings and every turn in between, thrumming through his veins and mind and singing to his very soul. Even in the noisiest of places he could always hear Time's subtle singing.

For all the corruption and darkness that had so infused the Time Lords by the end of everything, the world itself always remained pure, timeless, revered and worshiped. He missed his people, missed the cacophony at the back of his mind, the reminder that he always had a place to return to should he ever needed it, but it was the song of Time and feeling Gallifrey sing with it that he missed the most.

To protect himself, he had shoved Gallifrey to the darkest, deepest part of his mind, avoiding any mention, any thought, any concept of his lost home. And yet in doing so it had only grown in his power over him. All it had taken was one tiny, special, pink and yellow human with the stars in her eyes and the universe in her heart to break that hold over him. Gallifrey wouldn't be forgotten; wouldn't be restricted to just his mind, his memories, not any more.

"Let me show you something," he said, and held out his hand.

As he led her to a locked room deep in the bowels of his ship, containing all that remained of his world, the TARDIS sighed and sang a Song of remembrance and acceptance. Maybe, without the burden of the past fully on his shoulders, Her Doctor could finally begin to move on. She sang him a Song of peace, and whispered a melody of future and love into his companion's mind. The TARDIS could see all things, past future and present, and though even She didn't know what the outcome would bring, She knew that from now on, Her Doctor and Her Rose would face it together as one.


	11. On Boyfriends

Based off a picture by flypup on Tumblr.

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><p>When she had walked out in that tight red jacket, the Doctor's blood pressure had skyrocketed and he was pretty sure he had paled because his blood had definitely started rushing south.<p>

Red _suited_ her.

The Doctor swallowed, turning to mess with the console before he let his feelings show. And, dang it, he had a problem down there to take care of as well.

He knew that day was going to try his patience, Adam notwithstanding.

They were standing in the lift, hands still clasped, when things came to a head.

"You seem jealous of Adam," she said, casually, but there was a glint in her eye he tried not to think about.

"Why would I be jealous?" He snorted. "He's an idiot."

"I thought Mickey was the idiot," Rose grinned, tongue curling at the edge of her mouth.

He shrugged his shoulders to wrap his jacket around him tighter. "He's an idiot too. You could do better with your boyfriends."

"I told you he wasn't my boyfriend anymore," She replied, facing him more fully. "But since I'm such a terrible judge of character... who do you think I should date?"

No. No nononononono. He shouldn't be going there. He shouldn't even have started going there. But this was Rose, Rose with the the beautiful smile, Rose with the hand that fit perfectly in his, Rose who thought and acted and saved him. He was lost before he had even begun. "Someone who can keep up with you," he replied. "Not just in running, but in wit and humor and smarts. Someone whose compassion is just as large as yours. Someone who... someone who puts you before everything."

She stared up at him, eyes almost glowing, before whispering his name. It was almost a question, and her wonder and slight fear matched the same feeling rising up in him. If he bent forward and tilted his head a little, it would make for one fantastic kiss.

Stop it! He chastised himself. Rose was too young for him, she still had so much to do and see and he couldn't be responsible for damaging her. But surely, he thought as she stepped closer, surely she didn't know what she was doing. Rose was from Earth, she shouldn't be subconsciously mimicking Gallifreyan mating rituals. His hearts sped up as he her free hand came to rest on his chest. "I..." she began, only to be interrupted by the lift gliding to a stop.

Right. Save the world first, domestics later.

He still couldn't get the idea of kissing her out of his mind, though.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Adam turned out to be yet another greedy little ape. Leaving him with that hole in his head was a better fate than he deserved, really, and the timelines allowed it. Nothing upsetting would happen, and if it did, well, he'd do what he always did.

Rose had been quiet since they entered the TARDIS after dropping Adam off, and only when they were in the vortex did she speak. "I've been thinking," she started.

From where he was peering at the monitor, the Doctor turned to look at her. "What?"

"About what you said in the lift. I think I know what type of boyfriend I need."

His mouth went dry.

"Except," She added, slowly walking towards him, "the thing is, boyfriend doesn't really suit this person. Because he's not a boy. He's very much a man. But like a man, he has all these hang-ups that don't really matter. You know why?"

She was very, very close, and he pressed himself against the console, hearts hammering. Hope and fear warred within him. He wanted her, loved her even, but she was too precious for him to break. "Why?" he asked, anyway, because even if he knew better he never could resist the big red button that must never, ever be pressed.

"Because I love him anyway."

And then she was kissing him. His War reflexes kicked in before he could stop himself, and he had tensed before he really knew what he was doing and was about to execute a Venusion Aikido move that would have rendered her unconscious for hours before he stopped. Rose Tyler was kissing him. Kissing him, and pressing against him, and there was no denying what was going on below the belt now the way she was pressed against him. With a groan he gave in, and he could taste her triumph.

His hands couldn't be on her zipper of her jacket fast enough; it had taunted him all day. As she pushed him lightly against the console and stepped between his legs- and once again he wondered how she had known to do this, know that Gallifreyan woman were the aggressors in a relationship- the zip was lowered, and he pulled away from the kiss to watch as more skin was revealed. What he found made him raise his eyebrows.

"No bra?" He asked, impressed despite himself.

"Perosonal force field," she explained, and he finally noticed the small disk in the center of her chest. "Picked it up last week in that market."

"Wondered how you spent all your money so fast," he muttered, distracted by, well, just what the force field was holding up. "Worth it."

"I think so," She said, a tad smugly. Her voice grew hesitant. "You... don't mind this, do you?"

He looked up at her, smiling gently. He sometimes forgot how young she was, still. "Rose Tyler, there is nothing more I want than this."

Rose smiled back, still a little shy. "Then let's take this somewhere else, yeah?"

He slid off the console, wrapping her hand firmly in his. "Wherever you lead, I'll always follow," he promised.


	12. On Peace

Written for Jaxin88 on Tumblr.

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><p>Sonata was a deceptively cold planet; when Rose had first stepped out, she had vaguely noticed that the air seemed a bit sharp, but wasn't too worried. As time went on, though, she began to shiver with more frequency.<p>

The Doctor was in the middle of a peace war, where the two sides literally fought over how much more peaceful their reign would be. While suspended upside down over a giant marshmallow pit, which were, incidentally, the projectiles they used to hurl at each other whenever they made a rebuttal. The Doctor's official duty was to keep tally of each side's wins and losses, and knocking points if their marshmallow was thrown too hard. Mostly, he was trying not to laugh.

It was after a particularly vicious "All the children in the kingdom will have a dozen free lollies a DAY!", accompanied by much excited squealing and a united groan from the parents, that the Doctor called a ten-minute break to tally the scores. Their faces were getting a little purple, now that she thought about it.

The participants were released from the ropes and landed unceremoniously into the pit. As they struggled to get out, the Doctor loped over to where Rose was sitting and beamed. "Peace wars! Always thought they were fantastic. The bit about the marshmallows is new, though; last time I attended one, they used pineapple chunk ice cream. Now THAT was a sight to see. The winner couldn't even accept his crown he was so frozen."

"Speaking of freezing," Rose said, and the Doctor finally looked at her properly.

He shook his head. "Humans. It's not even below freezing and you can't handle it." Still, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Rose instantly cuddled into the leather, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," she said, leaning into his side. He draped an arm over her shoulders and she smiled. "So, who won?"

He looked over the paper contemplatively. "G'rex'thral. Won't know until all the votes come in, but that bit about the candy really didn't work in favor of Y'resh'unti. Children and sugar aren't good combinations."

Rose giggled. "Dunno, I've seen you on a sugar high, Doctor, and no toddler can top that."

He frowned down at her. "Time Lords don't get hyper, Rose. We just become more fixated upon a certain thing."

"Right," She smirked. "That why I had to stop you from skinny dipping?"

Horror crossed his face, and she broke down laughing. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" She snorted, leaning into him helplessly. He scowled at her, but there was no heat to it. "Still, you were adorable, and I've never seen you smile so much. You need to smile more, you know. You have a beautiful smile."

He didn't reply, and Rose suddenly realized what she said. She flushed crimson, hunkering down into his jacket. Mortified, she started to apologize, but when his other hand gently tilted her head up to face him, all the words died as she took in his tender expression.

"That wasn't because of the sugar, Rose," he said, quietly.

The moment froze between them, a nameless but familiar charge filling the air. Rose's breath caught as she saw his eyes dip lower; her lips parted slightly, wondering if perhaps this time they would cross that invisible line. His hand still rested under her chin, but slowly started to make its way around her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut. This was it, this was...

"Sir Doctor, the votes are in. It is time to announce your decision."

They reeled back, startled, and the Doctor cleared his throat before answering. "Yes, thank you. I have my scores here." The alien bowed, and after the Doctor gave an inscrutable look at Rose he stood and followed the alien to the podium.

Rose closed her eyes briefly, then shook herself. No matter. It was probably for the best, anyway; she still hadn't ended things with Mickey, and he was an alien, besides...

'Keep telling yourself that,' a voice whispered in her mind, and Rose ignored it.

Maybe one day they would finally figure out what was happening between them. For now, though, Rose tightened the leather jacket around her and moved to join the crowd. She had a war to see end, and a celebration to attend. If she was very lucky, she could persuade the Doctor to join her for a dance. There was no way she was giving up the jacket, though, as another gust of wind reminded her just how cold she really was.


End file.
